


Memoirs of a Stepford Garreg Mach

by bethany81707



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Chains, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, POV First Person, Paranoia, Partial Nudity, replacement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27298702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethany81707/pseuds/bethany81707
Summary: Dorothea shares her experiences of the events that caused her to flee Garreg Mach.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Memoirs of a Stepford Garreg Mach

Being in a new school wasn’t so bad. My main professor is the woman who offered me a recommendation and my house leader loudly proclaims that common people like me deserve a louder voice, so I know I’m being actively accomodated. And it’s nice. I had half the class pegged as the sort of guys who would never have given me the time of day if Edie hadn’t vouched for me, but they have layers. Hubie’s just… very concerned about his liege, Lin is obsessed with his interest to the detriment of all else, and Ferdinand… well, Ferdinand maintains his noble airs, and he keeps asking me out. There’s something underneath that smile, I can tell, and until I figure it out, I’m maintaining a distance there.

It’s the girls that have my attention, anyway. Edie and Petra are both absolute stunners, and when it comes to practical battlefield work, I’d say my biggest weakness is swooning at the sight of them in the church’s very un-church-like combat uniforms breaking sweats. I try to keep my distance, and as a mage, that’s easier to do than it sounds, but we’re still a small unit of… children, for want of a better word, and too much of a distance doesn’t work out in our favour. Those two seem oblivious to my affections, chalking my lapses of battlefield concentration to my lack of affinity for it, and allowing me to help them with their fashion choices, hair and makeup, the works. And to be fair, Edie barely recognises a hairbrush, and Petra wants solid advice from someone from Fodlan to help her fit in better.

There’s one more girl, though, that really pushes my buttons. As much as I desperately need a man- or a woman- who will provide for me until my grey years, time and time again I have found myself attracted to the younger, more vulnerable girls, and as I learned from the opera, those don’t go away once you stop living on the streets. Bernadetta von Varley, daughter of one of the biggest houses in Adrestia (why do nobles always brag about their houses anyway?), is as fragile as they come, locking herself in her room for most of the day. On one of her rare excursions, I found her fantasising about how perfect she thought I was, and how much she wished she was more like me. Well, I’m not one to agree, but hearing a compliment like that gets the heart fluttering. Unfortunately, Bernie didn’t seem any more interested coming out of her room after hearing that little tidbit than before it.

Until that weekend she went back home to visit her father...

* * *

I didn’t notice anything odd before class started that day. I diligently focused only on my workspace, eager for another lesson under Professor Manuela, and thought I knew everyone else’s quirks well enough that there was nothing to see before this week’s class on Heroes’ Relics. But curious whispers pierced the quiet of the classroom once Manuela had completed her lecture and sat down to read her own magazine. While I was poring over the nature of Relics as the goddess’s gift to humanity, less interested classmates were gossiping. I stifled my curiosity until the end of the lesson and not a moment longer.

“What did I miss?” I asked, making sure to block the door so Caspar, Ferdinand and Petra couldn’t sneak out.

“Bernadetta is much more of the confident now,” Petra exclaimed. I whipped around to face Bernie, who had just reached the door. Bernie looked up, politely waved, and continued on her way without so much as a nervous screech or a panicked gait.

“...That is unusual. Do you know what happened?” I asked. Certain rumours had fallen onto my ears about the nature of Count Varley, but I didn’t even know how true they were, let alone how they would help me understand something like this.

“I was hoping you could find out, Dorothea. You’re closest to her,” Ferdinand said.

“... _ Me _ ?” I asked. Sure, Bernie had mentioned finding me perfect once within my earshot, but she wasn’t aware I was there and that was the extent of our one on one conversation. Surely, out of Professor Byleth, Professor Manuela or Edelgard,  _ someone _ had to have had a one on one conversation with her.

“She runs away screaming from everyone else. No one could run away screaming from you!” Caspar exclaimed.

“Oh, I’m sure some people do,” I said, turning to Ferdinand with a sly smile. Ferdinand noticed I had slacked off on keeping them in the classroom, and decided he’d better prove me right.

“He is eager to do learning, Dorothea. Why must you keep with the torment so?” Petra asked.

“If he was as eager to do learning as you say, he’d have learned why I hate him a little faster,” I growled.

“...Wow. Anyway, you just sit next to her at lunch, and I’ll sit a healthy distance away so I can pin her to the ground if she bolts,” Caspar said.

“I would be doing the pinning too, if she runs in the direction other,” Petra added.

“Are you sure she’s going to open up if she notices you like that?” I asked. Caspar shrugged.

“If she runs, it’s business as usual, innit?” he suggested, something that sounded agreeable. I accepted his plan and headed to lunch before we missed our chance.

* * *

I took a nice sweet meal from the counter and took my seat next to Bernadetta, who didn’t even look up to see that she had company. Just in case it wasn’t clear yet that something big had happened to her. All I needed was a notebook and I’d be a regular Eleanor Maccoby! Or, well, I could play her in an opera.

“How are you, Bern?” I asked. Well, I wasn’t getting anywhere if I wasn’t talking.

“I am perfectly all right, Dorthea. I am eating a balanced, delicious meal before returning to class to continue my studies,” Bernie said. I nodded, noticing her pickled rabbit skewers, before looking back at the girl. Sure, I hadn’t heard much from Bernie directly, but that didn’t sound like the Bernie I knew. No screaming, some would say.

“Well, that’s… very admirable… listen, Bern, would you like to come with me after class? I’d like to get to know you a little better,” I asked, my free hand twirling one of my curls.

“I am behind on my studies, I must retire and catch up,” Bernie said, not even looking up to acknowledge me. I gave her a nudge, and leant over to ensure she saw plenty of my breasts.

“Don’t worry, Bern, I can help you with that later. Come on, I heard you call me perfect, I really do want you to get to know me better. Sure, I might-” I began, before Bernie cut me off.

“I really cannot make it tonight. If you’ll excuse me, I need to move over there now,” she said, pulling herself up and walking, very calmly and rather elegantly, to a seat five chairs over. There was nothing stopping me continuing the conversation except my own utter befuddlement.

“...Did you hear that, Dorothea?” Caspar asked, as he and Petra moved closer now that the conversation was over.

“Yes, Caspar, in fact I did,” I snarked. Why else would I have an expression of complete bafflement?

“This is not like the Bernadetta I know. Then again, I do not know Bernadetta very well at all,” Petra said. She did have a point, and I wondered whether I ought to interfere briefly in response. But the answer was not to continue talking to Bernie at this point. Down that path lay frustration.

* * *

My nervous humming as I prayed in the cathedral later that week was drowned out by another voice, a few seats down. Eager for a reason to distract myself from the question of Bernie’s personality overhaul, I got to my feet and moved to sit next to this other singer. She was untrained, singing along to lyrics she had almost certainly composed herself, and her voice didn’t exactly fit in with that of an opera company, but her enthusiasm was infectious and charming. Perhaps there was something to learn rather than to teach.

“Oh, am I bothering you, miss?” the girl asked, looking up at her. Her youthful face was laden with a healthy amount of puppy fat, and her uniform bore the emblem of the Blue Lions house.

“Quite the opposite, I would like to continue to hear you sing,” I assured her. The girl took in a gulp.

“But… but you’re Dorothea Arnault! My singing’s not going to be good enough for you! I’m just Annette,” she huffed.

“...You know me by name?” I asked. Sure, I had gathered plenty of fame as the beautiful starlet of the Mittlefrank Opera Company, but for some reason my suspension of disbelief didn’t quite stretch far enough to a Faerghan student knowing about that starlet and connecting the dots to the girl in front of her.

“Well, yeah? I ask any of your friends who the beautiful woman singing is, they’re going to tell me you’re Dorothea and you’re an opera singer. Mercie had nice things to say about your performances, even if I’m not sure when she went to visit,” Annette said. That made a lot more sense.

“Well then, perhaps I could come and meet your friend Mercedes later? I’ve heard good things about her myself,” I asked. While Mercedes and Annette could connect to my fame more generally, I only had scraps of information about this woman from Ingrid and vague impressions from Ferdinand’s mouth she suspected were highly exaggerated, if not made up from wholecloth. Meeting new people could do her some good, especially after how her estimation of a familiar acquaintance was broken.

“Oh, well, she’s going home this weekend, but you can catch her when she comes back! We’ll be baking, we’re always baking. At least until I get the cookies right,” Annette said.

“Well, I can’t say no to cookies. But for now, how about some singing?” I asked. Annette, nodding in spite of her earlier sheepishness, burst into a meaningless ballad I couldn’t help but sing along to.

* * *

I came to see Mercedes and Annette sharing a cooking station, and made to take my seat a short distance away to watch them in action first. However, before I could so much as move my legs under the table, the first few words I noticed changed my mind immediately.

“Why do you even bother, Annette?”

I abandoned the chair and marched up to Mercedes, taking Annette’s hand as I gave her a glare. Annette pulled her hand away, choosing to give Mercedes a more withering look.

“Mercie… this is Dorothea. She wanted to see us together, and I think she didn’t like what you had to say,” Annette said, clearly trying her best to smooth over a bad situation.

“Oh… hello there, Dorothea. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance, isn’t it? I was just frustrated with Annette’s continued lack of progress in the kitchen, since she hasn’t had any training and tries anyway. She’s only making trouble for everyone else,” Mercedes said, cleaning up the remains of a fire. I gave her a stern glare, complete with folded arms, and was met by a completely nonplussed reaction.

“Mercie, we cook for fun. It doesn’t have to work out well, just as long as I don’t blow up the kitchen- and I haven’t done that in weeks!” Annette said.

“Well, if you’re sure, but if you don’t mind, I’d rather cook something a little more edible,” Mercedes said, moving over to a different part of the kitchen to continue her work.

“What is her deal? How could you be friends with a girl like her, Annette?” I asked, still with my gaze locked shooting a glare at her back.

“She’s not normally like this. I don’t know what came over her at all. I imagine her weekend away just… wasn’t nice to her, somehow. Maybe she just needs some space. So… can you bake?” Annette asked. The answer to that question was a solid no- having adopted a desperate palate and having little time to practice anything messy in an opera guild, my food was unfit for the consumption of anyone else. It was almost a survival tactic, except Manuela didn’t feel comfortable letting me eat my cooking.

“Right now, I think it doesn’t matter, just as long as we plate something we can be proud of making,” I said, grabbing whatever ingredients Mercedes left behind and started making a batter. Annette chipped in, grabbing some boxes of new ingredients to follow. The cookies we produced may have more closely resembled ruined pasta, but the kitchen didn’t blow up and I could fit them in my mouth.

* * *

Annette and I got into a rhythm, pun intended, of meeting up and singing as we did some sort of thing together. The actual activity we did together wasn’t important- most of the time it was a group task assigned by a professor anyway- but we spent a lot of time talking. About lots of things, of course- the battles we had fought, the guys we had dealt with, various self-care tricks, you know, the usual- but one topic that came up more often than I would’ve liked was Bernie and Mercie. Both girls continued to act regularly out of character, and explanations were drying up.

“There must be something in the water,” Annette suggested.

“That’s ridiculous. The water I drank in Enbarr was disgusting and probably contaminated, but I never changed my personality because of it. Perhaps it’s an enchantment,” I countered.

“Enchantments are harder to cast than that. The human body is surprisingly magic resistant, especially Mercie. If it’s an enchantment, it won’t last without being renewed every two days, and that’s if Bernadetta is  _ really _ susceptible,” Annette said.

“Well, it has to be something. And I would really prefer to know what it is before I catch it,” I said. Annette agreed, but since neither of us had a further answer, the conversation trailed off. Before we picked a new topic to move onto, we found ourselves roped back in.

“You know people who changed too?” the young Lysithea of the Golden Deer asked us. I knew Lysithea as a friend of Edelgard’s and Annette knew her as an academic rival, but neither of us was expecting to see her on the spot.

“That depends. Do you know people who changed, or are you one of them?” I asked, sounding much more joking than I felt. If Lysithea was one of them, she would hardly have mentioned it.

“I know some. Hilda is actually putting in proper effort into her chores and classwork, and Marianne is practically as social as her. Admittedly, they prefer to focus on their work than gossip, like the old Hilda might’ve, but still, I’ve never actually heard Marianne’s voice before,” Lysithea said.

“That’s just like us! Mercie went from a doting mother sister to an uncaring cook, and Dottie’s Bernie started leaving her room,” Annette exclaimed. Whatever I wanted to add to that was forestalled by my utter confusion as to where the name ‘Dottie’ had come from.

“Do you think there’s a connection?” Lysithea asked.

“Well, not until you brought it up,” I admitted. The fact Bernie and Marianne both underwent something so closely similar told me that there was a common root cause made it clear that whatever it was, it was in fact unnatural. Expecting all of these incidents to have occurred spontaneously was a miracle even the goddess would have called farfetched.

“But what can we do about it?” Annette asked, and the worried tone in her voice hung in the air after her.

“I can talk to Edelgard about it. She still seems normal, and we have a mutual… understanding. But kicking around theories isn’t actually accomplishing anything,” Lysithea pointed out. She and Annette assumed matching ponderous expressions, while I was left to mimic them, my thoughts straying to Edelgard and Lysithea in a firm embrace. I had to find out what was going on, for their sakes as much as the girls who had already changed.

“What about a study group? We gather all the girls together and while they study together, we study  _ them _ ,” Annette exclaimed. My already wandering mind took a moment to parse that she was not referring to studying Mercedes in that particular way, but Lysithea’s excitement at the idea covered the matter up.

“I’ll talk with Edelgard about it. I’ve been asked to return home for the weekend, but I really want to get a headstart on this mystery first,” Lysithea said.

“What about Claude?” I piped up, startled to hear how quickly Lysithea jumped to Edelgard.

“This problem has only affected girls so far. I would double check if any guys have been acting strangely, but none of us brought it up,” Lysithea said. I nodded, realising that in the hubbub about Bernie and Mercie, I had slacked on keeping an eye on the Black Eagles boys. Annette’s nod made it clear she hadn’t kept up with the Blue Lions boys either

“You can make it girls only?” Annette asked.

“Only if you keep Sylvain away,” Lysithea responded, which satisfied Annette and not myself.

* * *

The study group, somehow, was gathered exactly as planned. All eleven of the female students had gathered in the Black Eagles classroom as expected, with Annette making the requisite pout that her Blue Lions kept them from making a round dozen. Rather than start discussing questions in groups, however, Bernie, Mercedes, Hilda, Marianne and Ingrid immediately buried their noses in their books, ignoring all attempts to attract their attention.

“Not normal,” Annette muttered.

“Since when was Ingrid changed?” I asked.

“Changed? In what way?” Petra asked. I turned to Lysithea to launch into an explanation, staring at Ingrid, drinking in her facial features. She had a charm much like Edelgard and Petra, and I was taken to admiring her when the Lions interacted with the Eagles. I blinked, and took a closer look at those facial features.

“Annette… am I wrong, or is Ingrid wearing makeup?” I asked. Annette took her own chance to try and see Ingrid’s face, before nodding her agreement.

“Whenever Mercie and I brought it up, she refused us flat. You’re right… her mind wouldn’t be changed so quickly,” Annette said, turning back to Mercedes in fear.

“It’s peculiar… I’ve never read about anything like it!” Lysithea exclaimed.

“I… have, but the symptoms don’t add up. These girls are consciously and openly acting different, rather than pretending to fit in,” Edelgard said. I preferred not think about the very real possibility that there are nobles who aren’t who they say they are right now.

“We can’t give up… we have to figure out what’s going wrong,” Annette babbled.

“We…  _ know _ what’s wrong. Some of the noble girls have, er… started caring more about their studies than their personal relationships? We  _ are _ paying out the nose to be here, you know? So are we going to start the “study” part of this study group?” Leonie asked. I intended to shoot her a withering glare, but Petra grabbed my arm and urged against it.

“We might as well, not going to learn much more from just observing them,” Edelgard said, gathering everyone to plunge into a discussion of axework in both offensive and defensive context for Petra and Leonie’s benefits more than us mages. I sat down next to Bernie and opened a book at random, spending most of the time trying to get a game of footsies started, idly touching her hair, or pinching her cheeks. All I got was a very curt shaking away of my touch when I tried the latter two, neither looking up nor vocalising. At the very least, the hair and cheek  _ felt _ like hair and cheek.

* * *

Things got worse next week. There was a feast occurring on the Friday, and Mercedes did the cooking in the most domestic apron one could find. Well, OK, at this point, it wasn’t that bad, and since me and Annette were used to seeing things like this, we were content to start a small sing-off for the benefit of a lot of people. Mostly us, though- it was a nice chance to teach Annette some of the hard notes, and if other people were going to watch, we weren’t of a mind to stop them.

The meal was a fairly pedestrian sauteed pheasant and eggs, served well for someone who regularly admitted to be poor at cooking savouries, and of course, the girls seemed to enjoy it. At this point, I felt I would be completely unsurprised by whatever the reveal turned out to be, because any conventional explanation was just not going to cut it anymore.

“I’ll just die if I don’t get this recipe,” Bernie remarked.

“Oh, is she a cook too?” Annette asked.

“I never knew, and I don’t think this is proof enough,” I said.

“I’ll just die if I don’t get this recipe,” Bernie said again, looking at us and taking another bite. “I’ll just die if I don’t get this recipe.”

“OK, call me officially freaking out. Thank Sothis I’m gone tonight, Uncle asked if I could come home for the weekend,” Annette said. I was less comforted by the knowledge Annette wasn’t going to be here for a few days while these… things ran rampant.

“Lysithea, please tell me you’ve got a good guess what’s going on,” I begged, turning sharply in her direction and sweeping my half-finished meal to the ground.

“Let me get that for you,” Lysithea said in an instant, grabbing a pail and mop I had honestly overlooked from the corner and getting to work mopping up. I was frozen in place, staring at her in horror as she silently and diligently got to work making the floor that was formerly my meal even more shiny than it was before the spill.

“...Cyril’s not gonna like this…” Annette mumbled. I turned to Edelgard, who was stuffing drumsticks down her throat as she hastened her way out the door.

“I’m leaving too. Uncle won’t be here for a few more hours, but…” Annette started, not bothering with stealing her last few bites as she got to her feet. I was left to wonder how this all happened. What was the common link here?

And then it hit me. The one thing between the study session and today that could adequately explain Lysithea’s sudden turn. I wrung my brains trying desperately to latch onto some sort of counterevidence, but no. Lysithea’s ‘visit to her family’ changed her. Bernie changed after ‘seeing her family’. Annette mentioned Mercedes also ‘saw her family’ before they met. And that could only mean one thing.

“Oh, Annette!” I cried, bolting from the room as fast as I could go. I had to catch her before she disappeared and came back wrong. Failing that, I had to find out who was intercepting her. I had to do something, at any rate. But it seemed my efforts were in vain. I returned to my room with the sun well and truly set, with Annette nowhere to be found.

* * *

I saw Annette again on the Tuesday afternoon- not soon enough, but it happened. Annette was reorganising weapons in the training rack, giving them a thorough dusting and not sending a single one careening to the ground.

“No… Not you too,” I muttered, loud enough for Annette to hear. If she did, she didn’t look like it.

“...Take a melody… simple as can be…” I started singing. It was a simple song, one I had taught Annette once she started taking her singing seriously. Annette didn’t continue.

“Today's dinner is steak and then a cake that's yummy yum... Now it's time to fill my tummy tummy tum…” I tried. Also no doing, but Annette did finally look up from her work to acknowledge I was in the room.

“Hello, Dorothea. Who are you training with today?” she asked. No emotion. Both her exuberance and her fear had escaped her.

“I wanted to talk to you, Annie. Like we’ve been doing for weeks. You remember that, right?” I asked.

“Friends with Dorothea… no, can’t say I do,” Annette said. I could now add ‘offended’ to the list of emotions I was experiencing in that moment, had I any idea what the rest of them all were (although ‘terrified’ and ‘upset’ were prominent among them).

“Annie… I can’t take much more of this. First Bernie, then Ingrid, now you, and all the other girls they got to first. Who is it that’s been changing you? Why are they changing you? When will they get to me?” I asked. Well, I knew that Edelgard was likely the next target, as the last female noble in the student body, but I felt very self-conscious about how much noticing I was doing.

“Changed me? In what way? I’m perfectly fine,” Annette asked.

“For a start, that’s not how Annette would’ve said that. You’re not a klutz, you don’t recognise me, and you’re  _ dusting the weapons rack _ . I’m fairly sure even Cyril wouldn’t bother. Also, even if that was a thing, you’d be singing a song about dust while doing it,” I said.

“Well, everything could do with a good dust, couldn’t it? Sneezing is a horrible nuisance and I like to think I’m doing something good in the world,” Annette said, turning back to her work.

“YOU ARE A SORCERESS! You have MAGIC! You CAN and DO want to do so much better! I absolutely refuse to see you squander years of work to become a witless housewife!” I said, blasting a jet of thunder at her hand to send the duster flying. The jet of wind that surrounded the current sent Annette’s hair flying, unveiling a pair of pointed ears underneath her locks.

“...What?” I muttered underneath my breath. How could I have missed that? Bernie and Lysithea, yeah, they covered their ears all the time. But Ingrid and Annette did not. Shame joined the list of emotions, as fear became the largest item.

“How could you do a thing like that?” Annette asked, reaching for an axe. Before I could start panicking, Annette dropped it on the ground.

“...Annie?” I asked weakly. The proof this was not Annie was staring me in the face, for Annette had yet to straighten her hair, but I didn’t have a name for what was in front of me.

“I thought we were friends,” Annette continued, taking another axe and dropped it on the ground too. Before she could take a third, she moved too close to the weapon rack, pushing it over. She didn’t appear to notice, and it otherwise didn’t feel like Annette’s usual clumsiness. She was still standing upright, for one thing.

“No… Annie, where’s the real Annie?” I muttered, leaving the room before the false Annette decided to react more violently. I idly wondered who would spot her making a mess and spouting the same few lines over and over. Hopefully someone else who would decide to do something.

* * *

The only place you could find me after that showing was the cathedral. I know, praying to a goddess who never showed the slightest inclination to help, but if she was ever going to do something, now was the time. Also, I couldn’t find Edelgard.

“Sothis… please. If you can’t do anything to help, I’ll understand, but I need to know what’s going on so I can do it instead! Give me a sign, send a messenger, just… if there was ever a time to prove this was a legitimate church, it would be now,” I prayed. If Sothis was listening, she gave no acknowledgement. Then again, it  _ was _ a giant statue of Seiros I was praying to. I still needed to find the Sothis one somewhere.

“Dorothea?” Edelgard’s voice called. Huh. Edelgard appeared when I needed her most.

“Thank you, Sothis,” I mumbled, before looking up at her. Her otherwise neatly brushed hair was frazzled and she didn’t look like she had slept for a few days.

“Dorothea… you are Dorothea, right?” Edelgard asked. I nodded, holding up my hair to show my rounded ears. Edelgard did the same, and held out her hand.

“I know you have no reason to trust me when I say this, but please do. We’re leaving Garreg Mach with Petra. Now,” Edelgard said. As much as I wanted to say I had total faith in her, I will admit I did consider the possibility Edelgard was behind the replacements. For a few seconds, yeah, but you know, gotta make sure.

“What are we going to do about the other girls?” I asked. I was not leaving Bernie, Annie and Ingrid to their fates. And the other girls deserved better, too, I guess.

“We can worry about that when we’re not alone in the belly of certain danger. I find having more people around will make sure we’re rescuing them rather than joining them,” Edelgard said. I saw the logic in it, but didn’t feel particularly comfortable that it would work as planned. Nevertheless, I took Edie’s hand, and she turned to get me out of the cathedral.

“Going somewhere, ladies?” the voice asked. I had always kinda imagined Rhea would one day sound very terrifying, and this was that day.

“Rhea. I suppose this isn’t a matter of diplomacy?” Edelgard asked.

“You would suppose correctly, heretic. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your distaste for the purifying light that is the goddess. My word is Her will, my only purpose to bring Her back to this world. And I think I have had enough of you planning to stop me,” Rhea said, making a beckoning motion with her hand. I felt a clammy grip on my shoulders, and turned around to find Edelgard’s duplicate having taken a hold of me. Her hairstyle didn’t yet conceal her pointed ears and her eyes lacked Edelgard’s rather charming white colour, instead being pitch black and rather like staring down a long, dark hallway.

“She’s not finished yet, but I gave her some of my own Seiros blood. That’ll reinvigorate the Crest in the Hresvelg family for another few generations, don’t you think? It’ll also help keep you two under control until I can have you thrown out of sight of even Fodlan’s refuse. I can’t spill blood so young, but as long as no one realises there’s two of you, everything will be all right,” Rhea said.

“So you think that will be enough? A Seiros Crest?” Edelgard asked.

“Where do the Crests of the other girls go?” I called out, fearing the answer. Rhea chuckled.

“Why do you think I keep that meddling fool Hanneman around? He has discovered the technology to harvest a Crest from one body and place it within another. At least I won’t need to take it out for your duplicate, Dorothea. Oh, how Manuela begged me not to make one of you, but you just kept poking your nose where it wasn’t wanted…” Rhea said. Edelgard’s eye glinted, and she turned around to grab her duplicate. She pried its arms away from me, and held it high in the air.

“You didn’t count on one thing, Archbishop. The Crest of Seiros is not my source of power,” she said, and the glow of a Crest activation surrounded her like wings of a hegemon. The complex butterfly shape looked identical to the inscriptions scattered across various holy sites.

“The Crest of Flames… where did you get that?” Rhea screamed, struggling to get up from underneath a limp duplicate Edelgard. Apparently, being unfinished wasn’t just a matter of bad eyes.

“Two years of torture and imprisonment. I’m not feeling charitable to anyone dishing that out. Dorothea, go to the marketplace. While you’ve been worried about the girls, Claude’s been eyeing an old wall,” Edelgard said. I nodded, bolting away as fast as my legs could take me- which wasn’t very fast, but with Edelgard’s power behind me, I had faith Rhea wouldn’t be stopping me.

* * *

The old wall in question had gotten on in years. Now it was no longer a wall, but an entrance. Stairs led down into the abyss below, as if this wall was intentionally made to conceal such. I would not have minded learning whatever exciting things lay at the other end of the passageway, but right now, I only cared if my friends were waiting there. Claude, Felix, Linhardt, Petra and Leonie were waiting at the entrance, counting out what they had on their persons to use as weapons.

“Dorothea, we have been in wait for you. Where is Edelgard?” Petra said.

“We bumped into Rhea. She seems to be the one behind all the replacements, and she attacked us with Edelgard’s replacement in tow,” I explained. While Linhardt looked completely nonplussed to hear this, Claude and Felix allowed grim expressions on their faces as they double checked their bows and swords.

“I want to hear the story, but we’ve got to find the girls first,” Claude explained. I nodded, agreeing with his view.

“Why are you here, then, Felix?” I asked.

“I found the Annette replacement trashing the training grounds. I put it out of its misery and came looking for the real one. There are some things you just don’t do,” Felix growled. I wasn’t entirely confident whether Annette’s replacement or the trashing of the training grounds was Felix’s primary concern, but I had enough faith that the former won out in the end.

“I am just here because I was awake when Claude started running around and he wanted all the help he could get. I stay awake at night because that’s when I  _ don’t _ get disturbed,” Linhardt said, though he did sound vaguely as if he did, deep down, have levels of shock and horror at what was happening.

“I’ve been searching the monastery for secrets and hidden goodies since before I formally enrolled, but I twigged on to this conspiracy quick. Hilda gives as good as she gets when it comes to my teasing, but her going from partner in crime to an obedient maid who does whatever I tell her was… weird. At first I thought she was just messing with me- like ‘Oh maybe I’ll do something small he asks without complaint. He’ll be up all night wondering why the hell I did that’. But it kept happening, and she even started calling me ‘my lord’ completely seriously. Well, since all the girls were seen leaving the monastery when they were last seen normal, I figured there had to be something like this… so let’s hope this is indeed that something,” Claude explained. I looked down the path. There was indeed nothing but faith that the girls were down here, nothing but faith the girls were alive.

“I’ll lead the way,” I said, grabbing a torch and deliberately stepping onto the first stair. Finding it nice and sturdy, I took the rest quickly, with the grace of an actress readying her next cue. Petra was right on my heels, and everyone else was satisfied enough with their preparations to follow suit, Claude dragging Linhardt behind him.

* * *

The cavernous space sprawling before them was maze-like in form. Claude stopped me and urged me to take a ball of yarn that he claimed he just happened to carry everywhere, tying one end to the bottom of the stairwell. Using this, we could sweep through the nearest doors cleanly, and happened across the promising one before whatever security measures were lying around found us. Except one- lying beside the door locked with a cruel looking iron padlock was a misshapen doll, looking somewhat like the depictions of Sothis except made by someone who didn’t seem entirely sure of her skill as a sculptor. When it failed to jump to life, Felix cut the lock in two, and I opened the door to find all the girls sitting in wait. Telling the boys to stay back, I ran into the room, checking each one in turn.

Annette and Lysithea, the newest additions, were still heavily straining against some rather nasty looking chains in the centre of the room. Ingrid and Hilda were held to one side, chained to the wall but with the fight beaten out of them. Marianne clung to Hilda, free of all but an ankle hobble, yet unable to leave Hilda’s side. Mercedes was straining against the single pair of chains binding her to the wall to reach Annette, the will to reach her friend breaking through any exhaustion one might’ve expected. And Bernie… Bernie was curled up in a corner, completely immobile.

“Bern…” I muttered, before shaking my head and turning to the other captives. I invited Petra and Leonie into the room, and they got to work following Felix’s lead and breaking whatever locks they could find, and carrying the girls together to the side of the room covered by the open door. I rolled Bernie over and confirmed there was still a pulse, before pulling her up into my arms and pressing her head against my chest, getting started on crooning at her until I heard a response. Or felt a twitch.

“Felix, got anything we can use as coverings?” Leonie called. Claude had indeed packed something of the sort, and while he wasn’t prepared enough to bring outright changes of clothes, what he did provide was enough to grant modesty, so the boys could enter the room.

“How hurt are you girls?” Felix asked, looking at Annette and Ingrid in particular.

“Just a little shaken… and slightly weak,” Lysithea said, with Annette nodded.

“Urgh, I can barely… move,” Ingrid muttered. Hilda flopped a little, Marianne budging slightly to accommodate.

“It hurts me too…” Marianne muttered. I feel like I was not the first person to have heard the real Marianne’s voice for the first time.

“As long as Annie is still in danger, I won’t flag. But Bernadetta… she was shaking like mad even when I arrived. She curled up like that and only ate because I forced her to. And then Rhea chained me up like that when she brought in Annie… I don’t think Bernadetta will be waking under her own power. We’d best get her out of here, to somewhere… anywhere would be better than here,” Mercedes said. She slumped over, clearly drawing on more than her fair share of her remaining energy, but got to work resuming her feet. Felix took Annette in one arm and Ingrid in the other, both girls managing getting to their feet with the extra help. Linhardt took Lysithea and, with careful coaxing, Mercedes, taking their hands and allowing them to otherwise act on their own. Claude landed Hilda and Marianne, prying them apart so he could hold them up properly.

“I’d better take Marianne,” Leonie volunteered. Petra considered taking Mercedes from Linhardt, but eventually decided one unencumbered person was required to fend off an attacker long enough to allow the others time to prepare.

Fortunately, there were no attackers on the way out, but I could swear I heard something on the move. Whatever it was, I was glad it didn’t become our problem.

* * *

Manuela and Edelgard had arranged for a few carriages to march us a good distance from Garreg Mach- as much as Manuela would have rathered gathering everyone up in the infirmary, she knew they wouldn’t have got rest there. Edelgard joined me, Bernie, Petra and Manuela, while the Lions and the Deer similarly divided by class, while Linhardt stayed behind. I wondered if Felix was OK being alone, before deciding it was probably a stupid question.

“What happened to Rhea?” I asked, once the carriages began moving. I was otherwise occupied feeding Bernie, which she was at least responding to.

“I knocked her out. She’s stronger than she appears, but she couldn’t tap into her full power without compromises she wasn’t ready to make, so I could handle her. Unfortunately, if we wanted to subdue her, I would need some specially prepared… implements, and there’s no way we could have them ready before she wakes. And I’m not knocking her out repeatedly- as much as I think she might have deserved it in hindsight,” Edelgard said, looking at Bernie as she did so.

“What happened with you two, figuring this out?” I asked.

“Figuring it out? I had to be told early. Rhea knew someone would bring one of the fakes to me, and I would recognise the non-human biology. She kept me quiet with the promise she’d make a homunculus out of you. But you two figured it out yourselves,” Manuela said.

“Lysithea and I are intellectual equals, and we share some common experiences to boot. When Lysithea’s… homunculus, was it, refused our regular tea sessions and started acting like some uncreative drone, I nearly lost what little faith I had. When I told Manuela my suspicions, she told me to grab you and run. So you’re saying the girls were locked underground, in chains?” Edelgard explained. I nodded in answer to her question, and Petra pulled her arms around me, noticing how much I was shivering in response to the two women’s love for me.

“I… we- that is to say, Lysithea and I- have been in that position before. I’m glad I didn’t have to see it again. Once we’re all back together again, I’ll need to have a long talk with you all about what happened. In both cases,” Edelgard said. She had always seemed so serious… something told me I would be learning why once the truth came out.

“There’s also something important I have to share with the girls… I also know why they were replaced,” Manuela said. She reached into a purse, and pulled out a letter, stamped with both the Varley house crest and the Crest of Indech. I took the letter and read it over, handing it back before I got tempted to tear it to pieces before Bernie could read it for herself.

“All of them?” I asked.

“Some of them are better than others. Those are the ones that seem clueless about just what was in store for their daughters,” Manuela said.

“But still… how could they…” I stammered, looking down at Bernie. Edelgard assumed an expression fitting someone preparing a heavy revelation. I promised myself that, if nobles like my father and Bernie’s got anything resembling punishment from Edelgard, I would take her side no matter her opinion of the consequences.

* * *

At long last, we arrived at the agreed upon location. Manuela guided all the girls to a prepared room where they could all take a good long rest until they felt they had recovered from the shocks- even Annette, who was only in there for a few days at most, didn’t even want a separate bed from Mercedes. Edelgard ordered the letters handed out, and all of the girls were curious enough to read them on the spot.

Rhea’s homunculus plot was advertised as a feature to the nobles, granting them a perfect daughter in whatever ways they felt a daughter was best suited to being. Educated, but not intelligent, quiet, ready to do housework, and with no inconvenient dislikes. Count Varley and Baron Bartels were eager in their acceptance. Margrave Edmund wasn’t too far behind, and voiced his agreement in more practical terms. Duke Goneril didn’t even notice the whole ‘replacement’ factor to the deal. Count Ordelia and Baron Dominic did not agree to the work, but that seemed to be more a factor of Lysithea and Annette’s investigations. Duke Aegir had something penned up for Edelgard, too. As for Ingrid, though…

“Manuela, this one’s not my father,” she pointed out. Felix took the note and read the signature, snarling as he wound up tearing the note on his own.

“It was mine. I think the intention was close enough,” he explained, holding out his hand for Ingrid to grasp tightly. Although it looked more like Ingrid was making sure Felix didn’t march out and murder his own father on the spot, geography be damned.

“I can’t believe… well, OK, I can believe Bartels… but for all of you…” Mercedes said.

“Yeah, uh… huge bummer all around,” Hilda said.

“The nobility is not working. Aegir and all his friends led an insurrection against my family and had us all locked up and tortured, with me the sole survivor. Nobles all over Garreg Mach have a story to tell about how their fathers have abused their belief that their Crests will carry their titles to bring misery to their children. And Rhea, who claims to watch over Fodlan, goes and replaces the kids who suffer instead of the nobles who started the fire. And I have had enough. Once I have managed the necessary paperwork in order to claim my title as Empress of Adrestia, I will formally begin the effort to bring a revolution to Fodlan, removing Rhea from her position and reorganising Fodlan into a place where privilege and responsibility is bestowed on the people who earned it. It will be a long road and there will be people who dissent, but it must be walked. Will you stand by me?” Edelgard said. I stepped forward and pledged without a second thought. Everyone else bar Claude echoed their agreement in succession, although Hilda and Annette seemed to be waiting for their friends to be on board first.

“What about everyone else? Surely they have the right to have a say in this?” Claude asked.

“Of course they do. Everyone in Garreg Mach- everyone in Fodlan, for that matter- deserves to make the choice, and I strive to make sure every single one of them gets to hear it. Unfortunately, I’ve had to start out on the back foot, what with the whole church propaganda and the insurrection limiting my powers and so forth. Frankly, most of my army is made up of people that would kill me as soon as I overthrew Rhea. But with allies like you, people I can count on… perhaps this revolution could shed less blood than necessary,” Edelgard explained. Claude smirked.

“Well, then, count me in. I may be the embodiment of distrust, but I think I know a few people who might be interested in hearing your side of the story, and who’d listen if I told it to them. Also, if you need any help with that last part, I’m your man,” Claude said, saluting.

* * *

That is the story of a life-changing experience. Things could never be the same again after Rhea and Edelgard revealed their true natures. And I’m happy for it. The opportunity to take an axe to the nobility is one I was ready to take, and while I wish there was a more peaceful way for that to come up, this way certainly changed the most minds.

Bernie got better, thanks for asking. A few meals in her tummy and she’s back to her normal self. Locking herself up in her room, of course, but I’ve managed to work my way into being a girl she trusts to open the door for. I still sing with Annette often, but she’s got her Mercie back, and Felix has sworn his sword to her in what I have been told is him making sure he doesn’t go running to Faerghus on his own to chop off some select heads. And I’ve gotten to talk with the Golden Deer girls some, and while they’re all rather pretty, they’re all also rather taken. Least I’ve got my Bernie.

I have hopes that this story will help bring Edelgard’s dream of a Fodlan united against government ruled entirely by faith. If people have no reason to believe they can make their life better, that is a failing that needs to be addressed. And to that end, I do not ask that this story be taken at faith: in fact, Bernie, Ingrid and Hilda all recovered and kept their replacements. They have their reasons, and if they’re OK with it, I see no reason to destroy them. Even so, it’s uncanny going to tea with Ingrid and having her body duplicate serving the biscuits.


End file.
